


Storms of Life

by JustAnotherUnderstudy



Series: This Should Totally Be A Thing [24]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Astraphobia, Boss/Employee Relationship, Caring, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Fanfiction, Nightmares, Older Woman/Younger Man, lots of comfort, lots of softie stuff, now there's angst, okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-05-07 20:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14679078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherUnderstudy/pseuds/JustAnotherUnderstudy
Summary: Astraphobia--an abnormal fear of thunder and lightening.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Shattered](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14670783) by [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/pseuds/tayryn). 



> I was so inspired by tayryn's fic yesterday, and I had a lot of nervous energy I needed to deal with, so I wrote this last night. I intended to publish it but AO3 crashed when I hit submit. Dammit.

Olivia sat on the sofa huddled in a blanket. The curtains of the large, floor to ceiling window in the flat were wide open despite the time of night. She reasoned that if she could see the storm, it wouldn’t terrify her as greatly as it had the last time. So far, that wasn’t working. There was another flash of lightening and in only a second, the building was jolted and shook as the thunder sounded loud and long.

A whimper escaped her throat involuntarily and she gave up the pretense of bravery and buried her head in the blanket. Her body continued to shake long after the building had stopped its motion. She tried not to think that in just a moment there would be another round, then another.

If she could think past the fear she would just be angry. That would come in the morning. Then she would berate herself at her cowardice. Even the Blitz hadn’t unnerved her like this, she’d say. Of course, she was just a small child then, and her mother tried to protect her from the worst of it. But she’d never been afraid of anything before, except weakness. She feared being weak, and now she was. She hated herself.

Olivia’s heart nearly stopped as she was certain that, over the noise of the storm, she’d heard something else. She held her breath and listened again, but there was nothing except the booms and clashes of the storm outside. It felt like it was right on top of her now. She wondered if there was anything at this height that would be able to break the window.

Her old flat had been on the ground, but James hadn’t liked that at all. He’d insisted she move after she’d been released from hospital. He’d found her a secure building with its own guards, which had turned out to be for the best since, in the mess after Skyfall, MI6 hadn’t afforded her a bodyguard. James had fumed over that, but there was nothing to be done. So, he’d done something pathetically normal for James, he’d bought a flat in the same building.

He’d be asleep through all this, she was certain. He’d just come home from that awful mess with Spectre. It hadn’t been two weeks yet, and he was still trying to recover. She was as well, but Blofeld had only locked her in a cell at old MI6 headquarters, he hadn’t messed with her mind the way he had James.

Suddenly, Olivia felt the blanket being pulled away by a stranger’s hand. The image of Tiago flashed in her mind and Olivia screamed. He had found her. He hadn’t died after all. There had been another mistake and now he had come for her. She wouldn’t go down without a fight, though. She wasn’t as weakened now, hadn’t suffered the blood loss. She kicked and scratched and pushed him off her. Her body was trembling as she was trying to recall where she’d placed the gun James had insisted on for this room of the flat. She made a lunge for the side table next to the sofa, but Tiago was faster and grabbed her from behind. Olivia flung her head back and hit his face.

“Jesus Christ!” a familiar voice shouted as the arms around her let go.

Olivia turned to face him, her eyes still wild with fright.

“James?”

Before her stood her former agent, his hand to his face as blood streamed between his fingers.

“Oh, god, James,” Olivia exclaimed, and her mind tried to take hold of James’ need for care for his bloody nose and push aside the fear that had her panicked.

She was shaking as she reached for him.

“I’m so sorry, I…” her voice trailed off. She didn’t want to tell James who she’d thought he was. She was too embarrassed by her actions now.

He only shook his head.

“Come here into the bath so I can help get you cleaned up,” she said as she took him by the arm.

James went along quietly, which only made Olivia feel worse.

She directed him to sit on the bench next to the tub and Olivia took a few towels from the cabinet. She handed one to him to stem the flow of the blood and then wet one with warm water to help him clean his face. When she handed him the cloth, her hands were still shaking. He took it from her with a questioning look.

“Did you have a nightmare?” he asked softly.

She shook her head and turned to pretend to be busy at the sink getting him another cloth.

“You called me ‘Tiago,’” he said in a worried voice.

Olivia’s hands immediately moved to grip the countertop to keep herself from falling to the floor. The fear that had slightly abated as she’d tended to James, now came flooding back as the image of Tiago coming in on the storm that her mind had given her moments earlier in the living room returned.

She couldn’t talk. She could barely breathe. Finally, her knees began to give out and she slowly sank to the floor. Somewhere, in the recesses of her mind, she told herself that tomorrow she would feel humiliated, but right now she had absolutely no control over her reaction. That was more terrifying than the storm.

Her mind registered that James approached her cautiously, but she was unable to react to him. He sat down next to her and, with one hand holding the cloth to his bleeding nose, he put the other around her shoulder and pulled her to him.

He hadn’t touched her since Skyfall when he’d held her in his arms as they both had believed she was dying. Olivia focused on the scent of him, and on the strength in his arms. Strangely, as it had that horrible night, being in his embrace calmed her. Slowly her breathing returned to normal and the shaking stopped. She was now only vaguely aware of the storm that was ebbing outside the building. The only thing she knew was him.

She had no knowledge of the time when he finally set aside the cloth from his face and picked her up to carry her to her bed. She clung to him as a frightened child might, afraid that if she lost contact, the fear would return to seize her mind and body once more.

When he did pull away from her she tried to put on a brave face. She wasn’t a child after all, and she wasn’t his responsibility, even though he seemed to believe she was.

She cursed quietly as her hands began to shake again. Then she turned away from him and pulled the covers up over her hoping he wouldn’t notice and would take his leave. She concentrated on her breathing, trying to keep it regulated, and jumped when she felt a dip in the mattress behind her.

The covers lifted, and she felt James lie down behind her. She could feel that he had removed his shirt and his trousers, and she wondered what it meant. Why was he in bed with her? And with only his…she wondered briefly if it was boxers or briefs but then shook that ridiculous thought from her head. It didn’t matter.

“It’s alright, Olivia,” he said. “I’m just going to stay with you for the night, so you can remain calm and get some sleep.”

She didn’t reply, but she also didn’t fight him when he spooned up against her back. Her body, again, relaxed in his embrace. She meant to tell him that he should leave once she was asleep so he could return to his own flat, but sleep overtook her too quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia learned very early in life that showing weakness was either a waste of time, because people don't care, or highly dangerous, because people could use it against her. James might be neither of those types of people, but it's too ingrained to change now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say except I can't seem to write anything but angst right now.

Olivia awoke to the smells of bacon and maple syrup. It was so out of the ordinary that it put her off kilter and it took her a moment to become aware of her surroundings.

After the scents, the first thing she noticed as that James was no longer in her bed and that the bedding around her was cold. He'd been gone for some time. Which brought her back to the scents.

She heard a clink of metal against china and turned toward her bedroom window.

That side of the flat faced east and she had set up a small table and chairs where she sat each morning to take her tea and the morning paper while the freshly risen sun warmed her. Now, at that table, sat James Bond and on the table was the source of the delicious odours that had woke her.

"Good morning," James said quietly.

He had a soft smile on his face and Olivia knew she'd never seen the look he was giving her.

'He must be trying to be genteel about what happened,' she thought.

She hardened her resolve in order to hide her embarrassment and she was about to snap at him for being in her room when he rose and brought her her dressing gown. Holding it up in both hands he averted his eyes to allow her some privacy, though Olivia was unsure why, he'd seen the whole gown the night before.

'Probably a little different when it's not a moment of distress,' she thought as she considered that the gown she was wearing was rather low-cut and showed far more of her sagging breasts that she'd ever wanted anyone else to see.

She crawled out of bed and allowed James to help her into the garment. She held her self stiffly as he did so and was surprised when his hands lingered on her shoulders as she tied the belt.

'Comfort,' she supposed.

She couldn't allow comfort, however, and turned away without acknowledgement of his act and walked proudly toward the table.

Two pancakes and two bacon were already on her plate. She tried to think of some way to attack him verbally, something to push back against his obvious pity. But then he was pouring her coffee and passing her the sugar and she suddenly discovered she was very hungry. She decided to wait to see how things proceeded.

They ate in silence for some time. If James was offended that she shirked formal niceties such as saying ‘thank you’ he didn’t say anything. As Olivia finished her meal she found she felt less defensive and far more relaxed, despite the two cups of coffee she’d had.

“Shall we talk about last night?” James asked.

Olivia almost rolled her eyes as his question put her immediately back on the defense.

”I had a nightmare,” she snapped.

”Is that what they’re calling it these days?” James mumbled.

”Don’t be impertinent, 007,” she barked.

James gave her a mock wince at her use of his number, then, to her astonishment, proceeded to somewhat change the subject.

”How about let’s talk of how I had the best night’s sleep in decades last night,” he said with a smile.

”Well, I’m glad you returned to your flat,” she commented. “I’d meant to say something to you, but I was so tired I fell asleep before I could.”

”Who said I went back to my flat?” he asked, sounding confused.

Olivia ignored the way her heart clenched and her stomach dived at the realization he’d left her flat and possibly liasoned with another woman. 

“Well, I don’t suppose where you spent the night is any of my business,” she retorted.

Why had he even brought the subject up? The whole night had been unsettling enough without knowing he’d....

James interrupted her thoughts.

”Are you being intentionally obtuse, woman?” he asked.

He sounded angry and Olivia looked up to see James eyes flash and his jaw set. 

“What do you mean?”

”For god’s sake, I was asleep here, with you **in my arms**  all night.”

It took Olivia a few seconds to realize she was gaping at him and she shut her mouth with a snap.

”Why on earth would that make a difference in how you slept?” she asked, truly confused now.

The look of hurt on James’ face was followed quickly by confusion. He stood and mumbled that he’d get started on the dishes.

She watched him as he mutely took up her plate and coffee cups and set them on a tray he’d apparently used to bring in their breakfast. Then he was gone out the bedroom door with hardly a sound.

Olivia tried to understand how anything she had said could have caused him that much hurt. The whole incident was confusing to her. But something had happened and she couldn’t let him go without trying to work it out. He’d done too much for her. And she was no longer his boss. She couldn’t simply let him stew and know he’d come when called for assignment regardless their personal feelings.

When she entered the kitchen, she noted how tensely James was holding himself as he rinsed the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. She waited until he finished and washed and dried his hands before she spoke.

”Thank you for breakfast, James,” she said in a voice she hoped was less sharp than she was used to using with him when he upset her.

”You’re welcome, ma’am,” he said.

She examined him for a moment, noting how he wouldn’t look at her, and, mostly, tried to recover from his use of ma’am. She’d insisted when they’d become neighbors that he call her by her name. He hadn’t ma’amed her in a long time.

”Alright, Bond,” she said in a voice more commanding. “Out with it.”

He gave her a hard stare before responding.

”Out with what, ma’am?”

There was an emphasis on ‘ma’am’ that time that was impossible to miss.

”What did I do that upset you so greatly?”

He briefly looked surprised, then his face went neutral.

”That’s rich,” he commented.

They stared at each other for several minutes, each too stubborn to give in. Then, Olivia shifted slightly, and felt a twinge of pain in her hip. It must have registered on her face because James immediately moved to help her to the nearest chair at the kitchen table.

”Are you alright?” he asked as he looked her over. “Is there still any pain medication you need to be taking?”

Olivia looked up at him to snap that ‘no, of course not,’ because it had been months, when the look on his face stopped her. She’d seen it before. A few times in hospital, and most recently when he’d saved her from the cell inside old MI6 where Blofeld had imprisoned her.

When he had busted the door open and she’d walked out he’d asked her if she was OK. She’d tried to reassure him and push him to go get Madeleine, whom Blofeld had told her was locked in Olivia’s own office safe room. Instead he’d stood before her for another few seconds, staring at her in the same way he was now.

Olivia reached out and took his hand in hers.

”I really don’t understand what’s going on with you,” she said.

James sighed then pulled out the chair next to her.

”Do you know why I came here last night?” he asked quietly.

Olivia shook her head. In all the chaos of the night before and in all her pride this morning, she’d avoided that question.

”Tanner called,” he explained. “He told me he’d called and couldn’t get an answer.”

”Well, I was asleep and didn’t hear the phone ring,” Olivia jumped to her own defense again.

She didn’t want Bill and James babysitting her. She was a grown woman and could handle herself just fine.

”Stop,” James voice cut her off sharply.

It was tinged in pain that, again, she didn’t understand.

"Please stop pretending everything is fine," he said. "It's not, and we both know it."

Olivia didn't want to talk about this with James, or anyone else for that matter.

"You had a full anxiety attack last night," he continued.

Without thinking, Olivia stood and left the room. She headed for the bedroom but James caught up with her and got around her to stop her at the doorway.

"Go home, Bond," she ordered.

"Not until I am certain you are alright," he said, not moving.

"I'm perfectly fine," she said. "You are the agent, you are the one who has to deal with it all as it happens. I told you to see Dr. Hall when I was in hospital."

"And I am seeing Dr. Hall," James said.

That stopped Olivia up short. It hadn't been the first time she'd ordered him to do so, but it was the first time he'd obeyed. And, apparently, not just for one session after Skyfall.

"Well, that's good for you," she said. "Move out of my way, Bond."

He began to slowly move out of the doorway but reached for her hand as he did so.

"Please, Olivia," he said. "If you won't go see Dr. Hall, at least talk to me."

"Talk to you?" Olivia was surprised. "Why would I do that? I've never talked with you about my personal things before."

James looked away from her and appeared to be trying to remain calm. 

"I know," he said, softly. "I just thought it might be easier since we went through these things together."

Olivia glared at him. She couldn't let him believe that she was that weak. She had never allowed herself to show weakness to anyone, and she wouldn't begin now. 

"Olivia, please don't do that," he said, then looked down where their hands were still joined.

He began to rub his thumb against her wrist. Olivia began to feel herself relax. 

"I know you aren't weak," he continued, and took her other hand in his other hand.

He stared at their hands as he spoke, intertwining their fingers. 

"You are the strongest woman I have ever known," he said.

Without her noticing, James seemed to have moved closer to her, coupled with the softness of his words, and the way their hands were joined, Olivia's heart began to race. She felt herself giving into him, felt herself begin to lean in as his scent overwhelmed her.

But she couldn't. She pulled away from him and jerked her hands from his.

"Go home, Bond," she ordered.

Then she turned to go into her room, closing the door behind him before he could respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They might get a happy ending, but they will get intense pain in the meantime.


	3. Chapter 3

"James, please sit down," Dr. Hall said as he pointed at the usual chair James had been sitting in, off and on, in the near year since Skyfall.

Once James was settled, Dr. Hall began with his first question.

"How have things been going for you while you are on leave?"

James was quiet as he tried to form his response. That used to bother him when he'd first started, both because he'd thought it was a waste of time and because he was only going for Olivia's sake. He'd spent the first months frustrated by the questions and angry because he really couldn't understand how any of this could be of a help to him.

It wasn't until he'd returned from Mexico that he could really find any reason to talk. He'd been away too long. He'd spent too much time worrying about Olivia. It had been only a fortnight ago that he'd realized that he was right to be worried.

Dr. Hall must have noticed when James' mood shifted at the thought of how Franz had kidnapped Olivia before James was able to return from Morocco. 

"Are you ready to talk about what happened at the old HQ?" he asked.

James wasn't. He wasn't even ready to think about it. He'd realized one thing when M had told him about Olivia's kidnapping and that was if anything happened to her, he wasn't sure he could be right again. And he'd realized why. 

Instead, he began to give a summary of his debrief, starting with how he'd found Olivia in the cell. He made the mistake of pausing, which gave Dr. Hall enough time to ask a question he really didn't want to answer.

"How did you feel when you saw her?"

It took everything James had not to stand and walk out of the room. But he was here by her command, and he could no more refuse this than he could yesterday morning when she had pushed him away and shut the door in his face.

"Well, I was relieved, of course," he said.

He knew that wasn't what Dr. Hall wanted and was glad when Dr. Hall merely nodded and didn't pursue it further.

Dr. Hall looked at his notes and James waited for another question. Sometimes the doctor would ask, but sometimes he would let James "process the information," which was some sort of psychobabble term as far as James was concerned.

"How would you define your relationship with Olivia?"

James was sure he felt his heart stop. He hid his reaction. So well, in fact, that it probably gave it away. It wasn't as if James was the first double-oh that Dr. Hall had seen. So, Dr. Hall waited. James would have liked to have let him wait until the time ran out, but after the events of the other night, James thought he should figure this out so he could get himself and Olivia back to where they had always been.

"She's my former boss," he said.

He really couldn't admit that it was more than that. His feelings for her, especially how he felt waking next to her yesterday, were confusing him and he wouldn't be any good to her if this continued. He had to be her blunt instrument. She had all but said that by her actions. That's what she was to him, he couldn't allow her be more to him.

Dr. Hall was looking through his notes again and James waited, not sure what the man would find there that had to do with his question.

"Are you aware that every session we've had, you have spent at least ten minutes talking about her?"

James tried for casual, but knew he was failing.

"That makes sense," he explained. "I mean, she was my boss for years, and now she is my neighbor."

"Why is she your neighbor?"

Dr. Hall knew the answer, but James assumed he was going somewhere with his question so he answered.

"Six refused to give her a bodyguard so I moved into the building so I could be nearby in case something happened."

James leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face with his hands.

"Something"  _had_ happened, but James had not been there. He'd been out of the country and when he'd returned, M had informed him that Olivia had been taken. He had been so focused on how he was going to find her, he'd not been able to prevent Madeleine being taken. 

"Do you blame yourself for what happened?" 

"It was my bloody fault," James replied. "If I had been there, it might not have happened."

They were both silent for a minute before Dr. Hall spoke again.

"How will this affect your work?" he asked.

It was a reasonable question. When James was on an assignment, worrying about Olivia was not something he could afford to do. He'd felt so torn since Skyfall. And if she hadn't sent him after SPECTRE herself, he wouldn't have gone. He knew this. He knew where his loyalty lay. It was not to MI6, and certainly not to the new M.

Still, she had said she wanted him to continue his work. She'd told him England needed him. That had reminded him of the way her words "we need you" had twisted in his gut the night he returned from Turkey. He could acknowledge now that what he wanted to hear was " _I_ need you." 

James had long thought that this desire was simply for her approval, he just wanted her to be proud of him and acknowledge his work. But after nearly losing her, god, three times in one year, he knew that wasn't true.

"I'm not sure."

* * *

The call came first thing in the morning on the Saturday after the storm. M wanted him to do a short assignment. Before James could raise an objection, M assured him he had a bodyguard on his way to keep watch over Olivia while James was gone.

At this point it was a relief. James had been waiting for Olivia to call him, but she hadn't. He knew she was alright because he watched her from his window as she went out to the market or for a walk each day. He wanted to respect her independence, and wanted to believe that, with Blofeld in prison, any danger to her was gone. But he hadn't been able to quite convince himself.

He packed his bag and took the lift up to Olivia's flat. She opened the door, but she didn't invite him in.

"M already told me," she explained.

What else was there to say? 

He reached into his pocket for his key.

"Will you keep an eye on things? Get the mail? You know, the usual," he said.

"Of course," she said, taking it from his hand.

James ignored the feelings the brief contact evoked. He had to stay focused. She wouldn't have it any other way. His attention to duty was what she wanted. Nothing more.

"Right then," he said.

He nodded to her then headed back to the lift. He heard the door shut behind him and refused to think how it should have gone if he ever had his way in these things.

* * *

The short assignment, which M had thought would take only a few days, turned into more than two weeks. When James finally retrieved the information and took out the mole he needed to, he took himself to the closest Biergarten in Bonn and started a tab. He ate his fill and drank enough that one of the women in the crowd should have begun to interest him. There were a few attempts on their part, but James found them less than interesting. The more he drank, the less interesting they became.

Finally, he called M and asked for a few days off. The man was surprised but told him he'd leave his guard on duty until James returned. James' gut twisted at the reminder of Olivia. 

She didn't want him, he reminded himself as he bought the plane ticket to Austria for the next morning. And, with the guard M had provided, Olivia didn't even need him.

James wasted no time on arriving in Austria, and headed straight to the address Madeleine had sent him when he'd texted her the previous night. She'd got herself a place in Salzburg and had told him she was going to take some time off before trying to work again. As he usually did with Olivia, he tried to ignore the guilt he felt at not being able to protect her. Olivia was so fond of saying that regret was unprofessional. James wished he could find a way to believe that.

Madeleine welcomed him into her flat with a hug, but James got the feeling it wasn't a romantic one so he refrained from kissing her the way he wanted. He realized, as she led him out to her balcony to show him her view of Zeller See, that he was here for purely selfish purposes. Madeleine was the last person he'd had sex with and he really wanted a way to forget that night he spent with Olivia in his arms.

She'd prepared soup and sandwiches and they sat just inside the balcony to eat. The talk was strangely plain and Madeleine seemed to not want to meet his eyes. He supposed that he deserved that, but he'd hoped for something more, after all they'd been through together.

Finally, she did look at him, but she turned the conversation in the exact direction he didn't want it to go.

"How is Olivia?" she asked.

"Fine," he said, perfunctorily.

Madeleine gave him an odd smile.

"I was surprised she wasn't with you," she told him.

He chuckled nervously.

"Why would she be with me?" he asked.

"Well, the last time I saw the two of you together, you seemed very close," Madeleine said.

James gave her a fake smile.

"We've known each other a long time," he replied.

She nodded.

"Blofeld told me," she explained. "He called her your "beloved M.""

James felt the color drain from his face and watched as Madeleine noticed as well.

"What's wrong James?" she asked, giving him a worried look

"Why would he call her that?" James tried to recover, but his heart was pounding and his skin began to feel cool and clammy, as if he was suddenly taken ill.

"Would you like to lie down?" she asked.

James shook his head.

"What else did he say?" James asked breathlessly, as if terrified of her answer.

Madeleine looked at him cautiously, not believing he was as fine as he was trying to pretend.

"Didn't she tell you?" she asked.

"No," he said. "She just said that Blofeld brought you in and took you upstairs, then I came in and got her out. You know the rest."

"Did you read my debrief?" Madeleine questioned.

James shook his head. He hadn't wanted to know, really. He'd failed them both, and he even had nearly failed Madeleine completely in his delay after he released Olivia from the cell.

Madeleine seemed to be weighing the wisdom of telling him.

"Look, if I want I'll just hack MI6 and read it," he grumbled.

She nodded, then continued.

"When Blofeld introduced me to Olivia he called her your "beloved M," then proceeded to say why he found it so, um," she paused as if looking for an appropriate word. 

James waited, impatiently.

"Amusing," Madeleine finally settled on a word, though James had a feeling that wasn't really going to be the right one.

"What did he say?" he asked and leaned forward on the table.

Madeleine took a deep breath before continuing.

"He said that you must be impotent and nearly blind since you were attracted to her," Madeleine told him.

The way Madeleine said "her" led James to believe that there was more to it.

"What did he say about her?" he asked.

She gave him a grim look before continuing.

"He said she was an old, dried up hag," she told him.

James stood angrily and Madeleine flinched. He stared out the window unseeing as he tried to calm himself.

"There's more?" he finally asked.

"Yes, but I think you can surmise the rest," Madeleine said.

James was silent for some time, and he heard Madeleine get up and clear the table. After several minutes, he followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the door jamb. 

"He's right about my feelings for her," James admitted.

Madeleine looked up at him and studied him for a moment before replying.

"I sense there is a 'but' to that statement," she said.

James sighed.

"She's not interested in me," he explained. "She never has been."

Madeleine waited again before speaking.

"She's a very strong woman," she said. "I can see why you would be attracted to her."

James nodded.

"She's strong, and intelligent, and really everything I've ever wanted in a woman," he told her, half wondering why he was doing so. Maybe he felt the need to defend Olivia after what Madeleine had told him Franz had said about her.

"You've told her that?" Madeleine asked as she dried her hands.

"What? No, of course not," he said, feeling defensive.

"Then how do you know she doesn't want you?" 

* * *

James sat in the dimmed cabin of the plane as he took the red eye back to London. There'd been no point in staying with Madeleine as he'd hoped. She seemed keenly aware of his feelings for Olivia before he'd even told her. But her advice to talk with Olivia was ridiculous. 

He leaned back in the seat, trying to ignore the man snoring in the seat next to him, and forced himself to get some rest. He was startled awake thirty minutes later by turbulence. The pilot spoke to the passengers to let them know to put on their seatbelts, and that they'd hit some storm turbulence but they were going to move above it. He then told them that their landing would not be delayed because this was a storm that had already passed through London and would no longer affect them.

James gripped the arm rests and cursed himself. He hadn't thought to look at the weather. He hadn't considered checking to see if there was going to be a storm before he decided not to return to London right away. Olivia had been home, alone, and James had been in Austria, trying to bed Madeleine. 

The next hour of the flight was far more stressful than it should have been. And when James landed, he had to fight the desire to climb over the other passengers to get out of the plane faster. He had only one carry-on so he headed to customs where he showed his ID and was shown through the gate quickly. He hailed a cab and was home just as the sun began to peek over the skyline.

He skipped the lift and darted up the stairs, taking them two at a time in spite of his bag. He was at Olivia's floor when he came to his senses. 

She wouldn't want him pounding on her door at this hour. And she certainly wouldn't want a reminder of her weakness. 

Deflated, James turned and headed back down to his own flat. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Earlier**

The loud clamber of thunder woke Olivia from a dreadful sleep. The storm must have been going on quietly for some time because her dream had been horrifying. That was the last coherent thought she had before the fear overtook her.

She tried to hide from the noise by pulling her blanket up over her head, but it did nothing. Her heart raced and her mind replayed her nightmare in which James tried to reach her in the cell but he had to choose between her and Madeleine. This time, he chose Madeleine and Olivia knew she would die alone.

Suddenly, she threw off the covers and jumped out of her bed. She gave no thought to what she was doing as she grabbed her dressing gown and slid on her slippers. Then she was at her door and taking up James' key.

The hall was empty. Her guard was downstairs. She headed to the stairs not wanting to wait to call the lift. Then she quickly made her way to James' flat.

As she shut the door, there was an extremely loud bang from the thunder as the storm moved directly over head. The lightening flashed and lit up the flat just enough to cast eerie shadows everywhere.

Olivia locked the door and ran into James' bedroom. There was a part of her that knew exactly why she'd come. That part of her ignored the part that told her to be ashamed and that she was foolish. 

Instead, she crawled into James' bed and wrapped herself up in his bedding. It smelled like him and that was what mattered the most. She could hate herself in the morning, but no one would be the wiser.

* * *

James quietly entered his flat. He didn't want any noise. He had always enjoyed the silence and solitude of his life. Why he had started to think of things going further with Olivia was a mystery. 

He set his bag down, exhausted now by his lack of sleep over the last twenty-four hours. The two hours he'd hoped for on the plane had only been thirty minutes and the rest of the trip had been nothing but stressful after learning of the storm.

He began to unbutton his shirt as he walked into his room, but he was stopped short by the sight of his rumpled bed. He carefully reached for his gun. A soft noise emitted from the lump in the middle, and it moved. The sound was that of a woman, he was sure. He was equally sure it sounded exactly like Olivia.

Carefully, he lifted the blanket and looked at her. She was wrapped around his pillow and sleeping deeply. He felt a smile grow involuntarily on his face as he watched her.

His "beloved M." No truer words had ever been spoken, he realized. 

He set the gun down on the nightstand and sat on the bed. He began to gently stroke her hand and quietly call her name. He smiled again when she mumbled his name in reply in her sleep.

After a moment her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him in surprise.

"James, what are you doing here?"

He chuckled.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "You are in my flat."

She sat up and glanced quickly around the room, then her face flushed with embarrassment.

"I only meant," she stopped, and changed her response. 

"There was a storm," she whispered, then stopped again.

She looked away from him and James noticed she began to shake.

"It's alright," he said quietly. "I know what the storms do to you."

She stiffened, but that was no surprise to James. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to be strong all the time, that he thought no less of her for this fear. But he knew that would just make things worse.

She didn't seem to know what to do now. It was obvious the storm had passed, but now that James had found her, she was uncharacteristically hesitant.

"Can I make you some tea?" he asked.

She looked at him as if to examine his sincerity, then her brows furrowed.

"You look like you haven't slept in a month and you are planning to make me some tea?" she snapped.

James thought it was an odd thing for her to be upset about. He was reminded of when he'd brought in White. She'd been concerned about his obvious lack of sleep then. She was so angry about the damage he'd caused in the car chase to bring White in, that she'd made it sound as if she was angry about his exhaustion.

He knew full well she cared about him, about what happened to him. She wasn't the cold bitch most people thought. She just didn't express the concern in a way everyone wanted her to, in the way their gran would. She was no one's gran. And if she had been, James imagined it wouldn't have been any different. 

He'd learned that over the last year, learned to understand her and how she communicated. He'd made it a point to study her and get to know her as well as she knew him. He owed her that much.

So, he just smiled at her and rose to head to the kitchen. He took the kettle off the stove top and refreshed the water. 

In a moment, he heard her join him and sit at the kitchen counter. She watched while he rummaged through his tea for her favorites.

Silently, he set them out on the counter and brought out the tea cups, teapot, and cream, as well as the sugar cubes he knew she liked. By the time things were set up, the water had begun to boil and he took it off the heat to pour it into the teapot. He carried the tea tray to the sofa on the other side of the counter. He set it on the coffee table and, when M sat down, James poured her tea and passed her the cream and sugar.

After James prepared his own tea, the two sat in silence. James considered how to continue some sort of conversation with her. She was the only woman who constantly kept him on edge. He'd never understood until Skyfall why that was. Now that he did, it hadn't made it easier. 

Instead, they finished their tea and Olivia stood and explained that she would be returning to her flat.

"You are joking," he said, flatly.

"Why would I?" she said. "There's no need for me to be here."

James rolled his eyes at her.

"Well, at least allow me to go fetch some clothing for you so you aren't walking around the building in your nightclothes," he said. "Someone's bound to call for services for you."

Olivia blanched, but she recovered quickly to give him a sharp look.

"I am quite aware of my age," she snapped.

James sighed, angry with himself for his quip.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't referring to your age."

"Which you know well," she interrupted.

He looked at her for a moment, not sure how to respond.

"Look," he started, but then he stopped and sighed, shaking his head.

"Just wait and I'll get you some clothes," he said, then headed out the door.

Once he was in Olivia's flat, he entered her bedroom and took a deep breath, hoping to calm himself, but it didn't work. He went into her closet, trying to ignore the feelings being here stirred in him. He found a purse he could use to put her clothing in, then pulled his favorite blouse and slacks off their hangers. Without thinking, he headed to her bureau and opened her lingerie drawer. He froze as he gazed at the lace garments. He reached out to run his hand across the fabrics, then stopped and chastised himself for acting like a pubescent boy. They were just underclothes. 

Just  _her_ underclothes, a voice growled lasciviously in his head.

James ignored it and grabbed a bra, then returned to the front door for her house shoes.

He didn't think he had been gone that long, but when he returned, the dishes from tea were washed up and sitting in the rack, and Olivia was asleep on his sofa. He set her bag next to his and walked softly toward her. Kneeling, he reached to touch her face, but again stopped himself. He had no right. Instead he went to the hall closet and pulled out an extra blanket to cover her, then he returned to the bedroom and got into his own bed.

The bed now smelled like her. He was surprised at how he felt breathing her scent. It relaxed him and he quickly drifted to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Two days later, Olivia was surprised to find herself summoned to MI6. Tanner came to pick her up  and take her to see M.

"It's good to see you, Olivia," M said when she walked into his office. "Have a seat, please."

She sat down and M gave her a look she knew meant nothing good.

"I wanted to talk with you about James' recent assignment," he said.

Olivia's eyes were wide with surprise.

"I don't think that is at all appropriate," she said.

"In fact, it is," he countered. "I'm not going to give you details, but there are certain things I've observed lately that I feel I need to talk with you about, because this affects James' future, which seems inextricably entwined with yours."

She stared at him for a moment.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she said. "James and I hardly have our futures together. I'm retired. And even if _he_ leaves the service, he will likely not stay with me."

M gave her a look that said he did not believe her, but he didn't comment on it.

"I spoke with James yesterday," he said. "He _is_ going to relinquish his 00 status by the end of the week."

M felt the room begin to spin around her. 

"That's ridiculous," she accused and gripped the arms of the chair, trying to gain a foothold physically as well as mentally. "He's the best agent I ever had."

M gave her another long look and nodded slowly.

"Yes," he conceded. "Bond is  _your_ best agent."

Olivia shook her head. He was making no sense.

M sighed.

"This assignment I sent him on was a test," he said. "But not to see if he was fit for service, exactly. It was to see if he could kill on my command."

He shifted in his seat and leaned forward at the desk.

"It should have taken him all of two days," he explained. "It was a relatively low level mark I sent him after and Bond had several opportunities. It took him two weeks."

"Agents have to use their best judgment out in the field," Olivia remarked. "It's not as easy out there as we in the office like to think."

M sighed again and shook his head.

"He had no trouble going after SPECTRE when you asked," he said and gave her a hard stare.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she defended.

"I'm not going to have you two up for treason charges," he tried to soothe. "I know you had your reasons, and, in hindsight, they were valid. But the fact remains that you asked him to do something and he went."

"James is loyal to the Crown, not to me," she said.

M nodded in agreement.

"I don't think he's not," he told her. "But I don't know why you can't see that he is far too close to you."

"That's ridiculous," she scoffed.

M waited a moment, seeming to weigh what he wanted to say next.

"When we were in your office after you lied and declared him fit for service," M said. "I accused you of being sentimental for him, but first I asked him why he didn't stay dead."

Olivia stared at him and waited. 

"I do recall that easily," she replied when he didn't go on. "I'm not that old yet."

"You both lied to me," he said.

"We did no such thing," she retorted immediately.

"Yes, you did," M replied. "This is not a point of contention. You are sentimental for him, and he came back for you."

"For MI6," she said. "He came back because he knew _we_ needed him."

M shook his head and sighed as he leaned back in his chair.

"This conversation was so much easier with Bond," M stated. "At least he was honest this time."

"Honest? What about?" she asked, not revealing how flustered this conversation was making her.

"He told me that you were the reason he came back," M said. "He told me that he could have taken the mark out in the last assignment less than an hour after he touched down in Dubai if it had been you who gave him the order."

Olivia felt her mouth fall open involuntarily. She shook her head.

"No," she said, softly. "No, it's not like that. James would not do that."

"Are you saying he lied to me?" M asked.

Olivia was silent as she tried to find a way out for James. This couldn't happen. James was the best agent she had ever seen. They had butted heads for nearly a decade, and he would never be that loyal to her.

As soon as she thought that, though, everything since his return fell into place as if all the pieces of a puzzle she'd been trying to work out suddenly placed themselves. M was right. James had become painfully obedient to her. To the point of near death, to be honest. After he'd returned, he had not once disobeyed her.

"He's seeing Dr. Hall," Olivia said, trying not to sound desperate. "He'll be able to work through this."

M shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Olivia," he said. "James and I talked it over and this is the only course of action that I could deem safe. It would be too dangerous to send him out into the field again in any capacity that didn't involve you."

The way M looked at her when he said you, caused Olivia to narrow her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You need a guard," M explained. "Bond needs a job."

"Absolutely not," she said.

"Why not?" 

"If what you say is true, James needs to get as far away from me as possible," she said. "He needs to see Dr. Hall and work this out. He doesn't need to continue to be around me, it would be detrimental to him."

M looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes at her.

"Just think it over," he said. "I haven't told James because this is the answer I feared and I didn't want to get his hopes up."

"You're wrong about James," she said. "So terribly wrong. It's awful for you to waste such a good agent this way."

She rose and left without waiting for him to say another thing. Tanner was waiting in the outer office and rose to follow quickly behind her.

M was wrong, Olivia was certain of that. James did obey her, but it was obvious related to some sort of trauma from those moments after the explosion when he thought she might be dead. He could get over that. He was a strong man and M was a fool to cast him aside.

* * *

As soon as Olivia returned to their building, she took the lift to James' floor and rang the bell.

When he opened the door, two things were apparent. The first was that he hadn't bothered to get dressed, as he stood before her in his t-shirt and shorts. The second was that, though it was only lunchtime, James was more drunk than she'd ever seen him.

He smiled at her as he swayed in the doorway.

"Olivia, you came," he said. "I wasn't sure when I'd see you again."

She was tempted to say that was absurd since they were neighbors but she'd been avoiding him since sneaking out of his flat two nights ago.

"I mishtchu," he slurred.

He was giving her an adoring look that made Olivia nervous.

"Can I come in?" she asked, wondering if that was even wise.

He gave her a goofy grin and nodded but didn't move out of the way. Instead, he reached out and took her hand in his and raised her fingers to his mouth to kiss. Then he pulled her hand gently to bring her into the flat as Olivia watched him with wide eyes.

"Bond, what is wrong with you?" she asked. "I've never seen you this inebriated."

James was weaving his way over to the sofa without dropping her hand.

He stopped before they arrived and looked down at her contritely.

"M fired me," he said.

"I heard," she replied.

"You mad at me?" he asked, sheepishly.

She gave him a soft smile and shook her head. She pulled her hand out of his and went to sit on the sofa.

"Wanna drink," he asked, his body swaying. "Or a, what time is it?"

He looked around, as if he was trying to determine the answer.

"It's about noon," Olivia told him.

"Oh," he replied, then stared at her for several seconds.

"Wanna a sandwishch?" he said, sounding like his tongue was twisting around the word.

Olivia shook her head and James plopped down right next to her.

"'Fraid you'd be mad," he said, leaning closer to her.

"James, I'm not angry," she assured him. "I'm just concerned."

She shifted her body to turn to face him, and to put some space between them.

"What will you do now?" she asked.

James looked over at the coffee table where an empty bottle of Vodka sat. 

"Drink," he stated.

"James, I mean, what will you do for work?" she clarified.

James shrugged and truly looked as if he didn't care in the slightest.

"I know being a double-oh was very important to you, and you worked very hard," she said. "I also know that most double-ohs don't live long enough to consider what they'd do afterward."

She was silent for a moment, hoping he'd be able to consider her words and start to come up with a solution. But he only stared at her with that same goofy grin he'd had earlier.

"What can you see yourself doing with the rest of your life?" she finally asked.

To this he responded with a huge grin.

"Wanna grow old wif you," he said, then he leaned close to her and Olivia was afraid he might kiss her. 

Instead, he lay his head on her shoulder and took her hand in his.

Olivia felt her heart racing. This was unexpected to say the least. Was this what M was referring to? It was one thing that James might be blindly obedient to her, it was quite another that he might have developed an interest in her.

"James, I mean for work," she said, after she finally found her voice again.

James took a deep breath and buried his face in her neck.

"God, you shmell sho good," he lisped.

Olivia could feel his warm breath against her skin. She hoped he wouldn't try anything. In his state he might not be able to control himself and she was not strong enough to fend off any advances.

In a moment, however, she noticed his body begin to slack and he leaned more heavily against her. Then a soft snore escaped and Olivia found herself chuckling and shaking her head.

"Oh, James," she said softly as she pushed him back off her.

His eyes opened slightly and he glanced around the room sleepily.

"Let's get you to bed," she said and stood, tugging at his hand, hoping he could follow her to the bedroom so he could sleep in his bed rather than on the sofa.

His eyes met hers and she was shocked at the desire she saw there. Then he dropped them to their joined hands and gently began to caress her hand.

"Oh, Olivia, I've dreamed of this for so long," he said. "I have imagined the pleasure I'd give you. I'll be so good to you, I'll be gentle and take this slow until you know nothing but the bliss of our physical contact."

Olivia was surprised he could form such a coherent thought in his state, but then she came to her senses as she realized what he was saying. 

"That's not what I meant," she said, sharply as she jerked her hand from his.

He looked up at her, and the pain on his face was palpable. Shortly, he looked as if he realized the truth of something and began to nod.

"I'm sorry," he said and looked down. "I know I'm not good enough for you. You deserve so much better than me. You deserve someone who's always treated you right, who's always shown you how they feel. You deserve someone with no blood on his hands."

* * *

Olivia sat at the small table on the balcony outside her bedroom watching as the London skyline began to fade in the dusk. She had spent the afternoon trying to understand how James had come to these feelings and, more importantly, how she had never seen them.

She'd fled his flat after his admission. She simply hadn't known how to reply. If she had told him he wasn't a terrible person, he might have believed that she was responding to his overtures.

Glancing down at her phone where it rested on the table as she had all afternoon, she finally picked it up. 

"Olivia," M's voice answered.

"Alright, M," she said. "If you want to have Bond be my guard, I agree."

There was a pause on the other end before he spoke again.

"Good," he said. "I'll have him in tomorrow to work out the details."

Olivia hung up the phone and stood to clean up the remains of her dinner and tea.

She couldn't entrust James to his own devices right now. M was right, he wasn't ready to be on his own. But Olivia still didn't understand why. And those voices in the back of her mind that sounded like both Tiago and Blofeld at the same time, reminded her that it wasn't James who was unworthy.

**Author's Note:**

> I might do more with this at some point but I need to study for now so this is where it will end. :)


End file.
